


burn your lucky cards

by stupidgaytree



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo, The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, First Meetings, NOT MUCH ELSE TO SAY HERE FOLKS, i have other aus to work on FHFHFH, this is gonna be a standalone for a while at least
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 09:44:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19971991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stupidgaytree/pseuds/stupidgaytree
Summary: Ketterdam knows her as the Lady Flame. She boasts wonder and tricks beyond any seen before, and all with a flick of her wrist. She grins back at whooping children delighting in the spectacle of a card going up in flames between her fingers. Ketterdam is kind to her, as long as she keeps her head down and the fire in her hands artificial."Are you Grisha?" children whisper to her before their parents pull them away. She winks and pulls out a four of cloves, singed at the corners."Where's the fun in that?" she replies. The admiration in their eyes almost soothes the nerves bubbling up in her stomach.





	burn your lucky cards

**Author's Note:**

> this is ALMOST a year old but it holds up so well and i just needed to give myself something to do so i edited it a bit and now we're here. enjoyé

Aubrey Little is not a quiet person, but she has always been good at hiding things in plain sight.

Ketterdam knows her as the Lady Flame. She boasts wonder and tricks beyond any seen before, and all with a flick of her wrist. She grins back at whooping children delighting in the spectacle of a card going up in flames between her fingers. Ketterdam is kind to her, as long as she keeps her head down and the fire in her hands artificial.

"Are you Grisha?" children whisper to her before their parents pull them away. She winks and pulls out a four of cloves, singed at the corners.

"Where's the fun in that?" she replies. The admiration in their eyes almost soothes the nerves bubbling up in her stomach.

Being Grisha is not illegal in Kerch — yet she finds herself looking over her shoulder as she turns corners, trusty companion Dr. Bonkers tucked against her elbow with his ears flat against his back. Ketterdam is kind to them, as long as she keeps her wits about her. No such thing as a safe place to stay, or a person to trust. Not when she hears about disappearances one day and murders the next.

***

A small bell chimes as the door swings shut behind Aubrey. She cringes, but the lobby of the building she stands in now is almost completely empty. There's only her, and a large man behind a counter, flipping through what looks like a cookbook with bookmarks stuck up throughout it. He looks up after a moment and seems to freeze, then jumps into motion.

"Uh, hello there!" he calls. His voice has the slightest edge of a southern Kerch drawl. It would be almost comforting, if Aubrey had more of an idea what the hell she was doing here. "Who, uh, who are you? Do you have business here, or...?"

He looks nervous. Aubrey clears her throat and slowly approaches the counter. "Hi," she says softly, "Um, I was — it was recommended to me that I come here by a, uh, Mama? I'm... kind of in trouble, and I need... a proper alias, she said? She said to, um, that that was to start."

The man stares at her for a moment before recognition dawns on his face. "Oh! Oh, yes, yes — your name?"

"What?"

"Your name," he repeats, "What is it?"

"Oh. It's, uh, it's Aubrey. Aubrey Little."

"Ooh-kay." He doesn't write anything down. He taps a short tune on the counter and finally says, "And you're Grisha?"

Aubrey flinches, but nods.

"Are people after you?"

"I think so." She remembers, then, that she's in a small hotel on Amnesty Boulevard, where she’s just told a strange man she’s Grisha.  Leaning over the counter, she manages a small smile. “And you are…?”

“Oh! Yes. I’m Barclay.” He holds out his hand and Aubrey cautiously takes it. Barclay frowns at her hand and lifts it up a bit to reveal a scrape on the heel of her palm.

“Oh, that’s just  — I fell on the way here. I’m fine,” Aubrey says quickly. She doesn’t quite pull away in time to avoid Barclay pressing a finger to it. She hisses at the sting and tears her hand from his grip. “What the fuck?”

Barclay seems almost startled. “Ah, sorry, I was just — I’m a Healer. I thought I could…?”

Aubrey feels her face flush with embarrassment. “You’re a — fuck, I’m sorry. So this isn’t —”

“No, this isn’t a kidnapping scheme.” He gestures towards her hand, and she holds it out towards him. She scrunches up her face as her skin knits itself back together under his touch, and pulls it back to stare at where the scrape was.

“This is, uh, this is a little safe haven, I suppose,” Barclay continues, “Grisha who have fallen upon hard times and bad luck are welcome here. It takes a little effort on everyone’s part to stay a secret, but we’ve, uh, made it this far.”

“Everyone here is Grisha?” Aubrey asks. It seems like it should be more chaotic here, or at least more of a dump, but it’s nice.

“Mama’s not. She’s a sympathizer. She actually started this place up about thirty years back.” He stands and turns towards a door at the back of the lobby, leaving Aubrey to gape after him.

_ Thirty years.  _ Aubrey wasn’t even thirty years old. She’d lived in Kerch her entire life, and she’d never known about this place. She shakes herself as she realizes Barclay is waiting for her and joins him at the door.

“You don’t have to stay here,” he says, “But we could use an extra hand keeping things together, since we don’t really charge anyone for their time here. You’re more than welcome.”

Aubrey can only shrug, and Barclay pushes open the door to reveal a simple stairwell. A few pots with plants in them sit on a windowsill on the opposite wall to the staircase, which is carved from dark wood and seems well cared for. Barclay squeezes his broad shoulders past her and starts heading up the stairs, gesturing for her to follow.

There are four landings on the way up. The first opens into an awkwardly situated but strangely homey common area, with a few chairs and tables, what looks like a small kitchen area in one corner, and even a piano. There are only few people milling around — two people who look eerily similar are playing chess, an older woman is sitting and shuffling some papers at the piano, and someone with long, curly dark blonde hair is curled up in one of the chairs, face hidden by a newspaper.

Barclay gestures around. "This is kind of a, uh, social area? It's not much, but it works."   
"It's nice," Aubrey says softly. The woman at the piano looks up and nods, then leans over and whacks one of the chess players on the shoulder. Both players turn and lock their gazes on Aubrey's face. She decides they have to be twins and glances to the person reading the newspaper. They still haven't looked up at all, and she looks away as Barclay leads her up to the next level.

  
"The pianist is Moira, the chess players are Devin and Dora. The one reading the newspaper was Dani," Barclay says as they ascend. He interrupts Aubrey in the middle of opening her mouth and says, "Dani wasn't ignoring you. She probably didn't want you to see her face yet."

  
"It must be quite a face," Aubrey mutters.

  
"Dani's a Tailor, and she prefers people outside her little sphere to leave her alone, so yes." Barclay grins at her over his shoulder. "Quite a face."

  
"What the hell does that mean?" Aubrey asks. 

They've reached another landing, which opens into a hallway with more doors that Aubrey assumes are where people live.

  
Barclay waves his hand to the stairs, which continue to go up. "The next floor's more rooms, and then there's the roof. We have a small garden around the back -- don't give me that look, it works well and I don't take care of it -- but otherwise, that's about it."

“It’s nice,” Aubrey says. It's the truth -- the building has a homey feeling to it, and it's well cared for and loved. It reminds her of some of the nicer rooms in her parents’ house.

As they head back down the stairs, Barclay asks, “So, what's your story?”

“Pardon?”

“Y’know, what's… what's your deal?” He waves a hand towards her outfit. “Clearly, you aren't going for a low-profile life.”

“Oh.” They’ve reached the common area again, and Aubrey pauses. “I’m, uh, I’m a street magician. Kinda hiding in plain sight. I have a rabbit and everything -- I actually need to pick him up, I left him with a friend when I came here.”

Barclay raises his eyebrows as Aubrey reaches into her jacket and pulls out a deck of cards. She pulls five out, closes her eyes, and holds them out to Barclay. “Pick a card.”

He picks one, and a few moments later places it back in her grasp. She shuffles the cards with eyes still closed, then opens them. She winks at Barclay and flicks her wrist, and a joker begins to smolder. “Was that your card?”

“Huh,” Barclay says, a small smile on his face. “Inferni. Neat trick.”

Aubrey is interrupted in her reply by paper rustling to her left, and she turns to see the blonde woman -- Dani -- with the newspaper flat on her lap, staring at Aubrey.

The first thing Aubrey notes is that her eyes are orange -- bright, chrome orange that  _ might  _ have slit pupils if she was close enough to see. The second is that she can see sharp teeth in her half-open mouth, somewhere between graceful and  _ jutting. _

The third thing is that she is one of the prettiest women Aubrey has ever seen. Aubrey feels her face flush and her heartbeat speed into an unsteady staccato, but barely has time to register it before she realizes her hand is also very warm and Barclay yelps, “Aubrey, the cards!”

The cards are on fire in her hand. She curses and drops them, stamping them down on the wood floor, and when she lifts her foot away, only ash remains.

“Oh, don’t -- don’t worry about it,” Barclay says, before Aubrey can even speak. “I’ll sweep that up. Um -- yeah.” He turns and scrambles down the stairs, leaving Aubrey in the common room, with the twins snickering, Moira side-eyeing her, and Dani still giving her an incredibly shameless stare.

“Hi,” Aubrey says after a long moment. Her voice comes out very small.

Moira nods at her, and the twins just turn back to their game. But Dani sets aside her newspaper and stands up, crossing the room until she's in front of Aubrey, who suddenly notices that Dani is taller than her.

“Hi,” she says, and a nearby lamp's light flashes on her fangs. She holds out a hand. “I’m Dani.”

Aubrey stares down at her hand before remembering manners and taking it. “Aubrey. Some call me the Lady Flame.”

Dani’s eyes spark in delight. “I’ve heard of you! You’re a street performer! Where's your bunny?”

“A friend’s keeping him safe,” Aubrey tells her, and realizes she's still holding Dani’s hand. She quickly lets go, and desperate for a distraction from  _ that,  _ says, “Can't say I’ve heard of you, though. Which is, uh, surprising.”

She laughs. “Yeah, I’m pretty unforgettable. Although….” She tilts her head, almost teasing. “Maybe you  _ have  _ heard of me.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“I don't know -- think about it. How many monsters do you hear about in Ketterdam?"

Aubrey blinks. And after a moment -- oh, shit, she remembers something. She hears a lot about Grisha witches, but she  _ does  _ think she knows of some rumors about one who looked like a  _ vampire _ , straight out of a thriller novel. Mysterious and terrifying.

Looking at the smile on Dani’s face right now, her freckles and curly hair in a cloud and a smudge of dirt on her chin, Aubrey wonders where Dani starts being scary.

“People don't like you very much,” she says, “You seem really nice to me.”

She laughs again, and Aubrey's heart flutters in her ribcage.


End file.
